Get Lucky
by HermioneGirl96
Summary: A spinoff of Mathmagician's brilliant fic "Carry Me Home." Simon wants to take the next step in his relationship with Baz, but Baz has some hangups thanks to his previous abusive relationship. Luckily, Simon wants what's best for Baz. A one-shot.


**Disclaimer: Rainbow Rowell owns the characters and the setting, and Mathmagician of AO3 is the creator of this expression of them.**

 **A/N: This is a spinoff of a brilliant fic called "Carry Me Home" by Mathmagician. Here's what you need to know: It's canon-divergent. Baz was rescued from the numpties by a man named Don, who became Baz's abusive boyfriend. Baz and Simon became friends over the course of the first half of their eighth year at Watford, and Simon rescued Baz when Don tried to kill him, after which Simon and Baz got together.**

Simon's been acting weird around me for days, so it's almost a relief when he finally says, "Baz? What do you think about sex? Like _having_ sex?" It's almost a relief, but not quite, because I can hardly imagine a conversation I'm less ready for. At least we're sitting on my bed in our room in Mummer's House, just the two of us, so we have some privacy.

I look down. "Um, I don't have the best associations with sex, thanks to how I was introduced to it. Don was . . . rough." I can't bear not knowing Simon's reaction—whether he hates me for being so weak as to let Don hurt me—so I look up.

"You . . . _lost your virginity_ . . . to that creep?" It's as bad as I feared; Simon looks like he could throttle someone.

"I didn't _want_ to, Simon!" I exclaim, desperate for him to understand.

He looks even more murderous now, and I'm worried he'll hurt me, even though the rational part of me knows he never would. "He . . . raped you?" His voice quivers.

I shake my head. "It wasn't like that. I just didn't know how to say no, so I said yes."

Simon looks even angrier for a second, and then his face crumples and he throws his arms around me. "Oh, _Baz._ "

I accept the hug and say, "I'm sure you would be gentler, though, so if you want . . ."

Simon pulls back and looks me in the eyes. "Baz, _no._ You just said you don't have the best associations with sex. I'm not about to put you through something that's been traumatic in the past. _Please_ believe I wouldn't do that to you."

I avoid his gaze; it's too intense. "But you clearly asked because you want sex. And what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't give you what you want?"

"A normal one, with boundaries and a past like everyone else," says Simon firmly.

I feel my eyes filling with tears, and I look up at Simon, something like hope blooming in my chest. Maybe my love for him really is a good thing. Maybe he really is the best person I've ever met. "You mean that?"

"Baz, of _course_ ," he says, caressing my face. "You don't owe me anything."

"I owe you my life, Simon," I say flatly.

"It doesn't matter. You _never_ owe _anyone_ anything sexual. I mean it."

I can't help it; I start to cry. Simon's arms are around me immediately, and he lets me cry into his shoulder for a few minutes, murmuring, "I've got you. You're safe here, love," over and over again. I can't imagine someone less like Don.

When I'm just sniffling, Simon asks, "What's wrong, love?"

"You're just too good to be true, and I regret every day I wasted not telling you," I say, hanging onto his hands for dear life.

"I'm sorry, Baz. I should have made it easier," Simon apologizes, inexplicably.

"Shush, you were perfect. _I_ was the problem, " I insist.

"No, no, it makes sense that you were so nervous to say anything to me, after everything that happened with your father and with Don," Simon argues back. He knows everything now, about my family and Don and all of it. "You weren't a problem."

I manage an eye roll. "I'm always a problem, Snow."

Simon pouts, but I can tell he's pretending. "You called me Simon before. And you're definitely not always a problem."

"I'm a vampire. My mother died killing vampires. She wouldn't even want me _alive_."

Simon kisses my forehead. "Then she would be wrong. Because you're wonderful, and brilliant, and witty, and lovely, and not dangerous, and altogether a worthwhile person."

I'm crying again. "How did I get this lucky?"

Simon kisses my lips briefly and says, "How did _I_ get this lucky?"

"You didn't get lucky, Snow," I insist. "You got saddled with a fuck-up of a vampire."

"And you got saddled with a fuck-up of a Chosen One," he retorts, kissing me again. "Baz, admit it. We match."

I rub my nose against his. "You're really okay without sex?"

Simon bites his lip. "For now, yes. In the long run—would you hate me if I suggested you saw a therapist to help you get over your hangups surrounding sex? I mean, it's okay if you can't get over them, but I'd like a chance, you know? If that's not too much to ask."

"Of course that's not too much to ask," I say. "Would you mind if we waited on that until after graduation, though?"

"That's fine," says Simon.

"Actually fine?" I ask, just to confirm.

"Yeah, actually fine."

"I love you," I tell him.

"I love you too. I love you too. I love you too," he replies, and oh, I am so, so lucky.


End file.
